I'm Fine We're All Fine

The older I get, the more I’ve learned that when a friend says “I’m fine,” there’s usually more to the story.

A few days ago, a dear friend and I were swapping updates. Her daughter is facing a tough season — navigating medication changes, the weight of depression, and the growing pains of finding her way. My friend, like any loving parent, is right in the thick of it. Her heart is heavy, the house feels the strain, and the whole family is walking through the challenge together.

And here’s the part that stuck with me — in the middle of all the stress, she mentioned that her creativity is soaring. It’s funny how life works like that sometimes. Even when everything feels like a mess, creativity has this quiet way of sneaking in and giving us a little spark of hope, or a distraction, or a reminder that we can still make something beautiful in the middle of the chaos.

When I wrote back, I found myself thinking about how hard it is for parents to talk honestly about the struggles their kids face. There’s this sneaky belief we all seem to carry: if our children struggle, we’ve somehow failed as parents. But the truth is, none of us get it perfect. We do the best we can — we offer love, we set boundaries, we try to hold the pieces together — and some days we fall short. That’s just life. That’s just parenthood.

I told my friend that if I ever had to take credit for anything as a mom, it wouldn’t be for the good report cards or the proud moments — it would be for the fact that I cared enough to show up every single day, even when I didn’t have the right answers. I was there for the tears, the late-night talks, and all the quiet little moments in between.

That’s that real parenting looks like. It’s not about perfection, it’s about showing up. And the same could be said for friendship, too.

Sometimes the best thing we can offer someone is a listening ear. Not advice. Not solutions. Just an open heart, and the reminder that no one has to face their hardest days alone.

If you’ve got a friend walking through one of those seasons right now, send them a text or give them a call. You don’t need to fix it. Just remind them you’re there. A kind word, a listening ear, and a little shared strength can carry more weight than you might imagine.

And if you’re the one in the thick of it today — the one balancing worry, hope, and the quiet in-between — don’t forget: someone out there is ready to share the load, if you’ll just let them.

Jann Goar Franklin graduated Russellville High School in 1985 and lives in Grand Cane, Louisiana. She also writes books, which are for sale at The Village Loft in downtown Grand Cane. You can learn more about her at www.jannfranklin.com, or reach her at jann@jannfranklin.com